Out of the Ordinary
by book.junkie.1996
Summary: Fang is a surfer from Florida. Max is a cheerleader going to the Cheer Worlds in Orlando. Fang thinks cheerleading is a joke. Max doesn't see the appeal to surf constantly. Max is competing, Fang is training. What happens when they meet?
1. Chapter 1

**I'm a liar. I'm gonna be doing two stories at once, since I no longer have school. And being as how one of the four stories in my poll is ten votes ahead of the rest, I will be starting 'Out of the Ordinary.' Max is an all-star cheerleader going to Worlds, and Fang is a pro surfer. Sigh. This story is going to be _hard_.**

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><p><strong>Fang<strong>

There's nothing quite like an early-morning surf. When the air still has a cool, nighttime breeze to it, and just above the water on the horizon the sky is turning blood red. When the sun is rising but you can still see a few stars, and when water lapping at your surfboard is the only sound.

I was about fifty yards off shore. It was roughly six-thirty (according to my not-so-trustworthy waterproof watch), and I'd caught five waves already. But now I was just lying on my surfboard with my arms dangling in the water, trying to enjoy the peace that I knew was soon going to be broken.

In less than an hour the beach would fill with other surfers, tourists, photographers, and a billion other random people just come to enjoy the nice day. And, as I'd been dreading for weeks already, cheerleaders would be tumbling down the beach - literally.

It was that time of year again - the Cheerleading Worlds. They were held at Disney World in Orlando, not in my hometown of Daytona Beach. But all of their hotels were only about an hour from here. And cheerleaders want three things only at the Cheer Worlds: a gold medal, a picture in front of EPCOT, and a few videos of them doing flips and tricks on the beach.

I sighed, glanced back and saw a pretty good size wave forming, and started to paddle forward. When I was in the right spot I put my hands on both sides of my board and pushed up so that I was standing, and then I bent slightly at the knees and held my arms out to balance as I rode the wave about three fourths of the way to the beach. It wasn't a good one, nothing that was going to get me in a tube of water, but I would take anything I could get to relax.

An hour or so later, the beach was starting to fill up, so I walked out of the water with my board under one arm, using the my free hand to tousle my hair and get some of the dripping water out of it. I grabbed my towel, dried off as best I could, and threw on a T-shirt, grabbing my board and heading toward my truck.

My truck was my one and only love, according to my friends. Which was probably true. It was a tiny, faded blue thing that rust probably fell off of when I was driving down the road, but that was okay. The bed of it had enough room for my board, I could get to the beach and back home on less than a gallon of gas, and it never broke down.

When I got home I jogged inside, snatched the gallon of orange juice, and chugged some of it before throwing it carelessly back in the fridge.

"Fang, you're dripping water _everywhere_," complained my little sister Angel as she came into the kitchen, yawning.

Angel was...well, an Angel. In both personality and appearance. She had fair skin, even though she practically lived outside, and her blonde hair surrounded her head like a halo. For a seven-year-old, she was really mature.

You would never know Angel and I were siblings. Her pale skin, my olive skin. Her blonde curls, my shaggy black hair. Her innocent blue eyes, my daring brown ones. Angel was a mirror image of our mom, and I looked everything like my dad.

But Dad's not exactly in our lives.

"Hey, Ange," I said, as she pulled herself into one of the stools in front of the kitchen counter. "Whatcha in the mood for?"

"Chocolate chip pancakes." Angel nodded, pleased with her decision. "And milk."

"How about..." I dug through the pantry, looking for breakfast. Let's just say I'm not a chef. "A chocolate chip PopTart?"

Angel jumped down from her barstool, shaking her head at me like I was a complete failure. "I'll just wait for Mom to wake up," she said, and she ran off to watch her Saturday morning cartoons.

I sat down at the counter with a PopTart of my own, knowing that Mom would be pissed that I was sitting in her new barstools with my wet swimming trunks. But it would dry, and life would go on.

Mom just overreacted about...well, _everything_.

My cell phone chimed, one of the annoying default ringtones, and I answered it before I followed the urge I had to throw it at the wall. I wasn't much of a music guy, and so I'd had to settle for that stupid freaking ringtone.

"Hello?" I answered. My phone is ancient, so Caller ID isn't exactly something I have.

"It's Iggy." I heard a squeal in the background. "Dude, you have _got _to come to the beach. There are hot girls _everywhere_."

"Don't you remember what time of year it is, buddy?" I asked sarcastically.

Iggy isn't exactly the cheerleader-dating type of guy himself. He's my surf-buddy, has been since we were eight years old. We trained with each other, competed against each other, and we were always the other's wingman.

Which is exactly why I needed to save him. Like I said, Iggy is _not _cheerleader-dating kind of guy. He'd rather hang out with surfer chicks, random tourists who want "surf lessons," or me and the rest of our friends.

"What're you talking about?" Iggy asked cluelessly. There was another high-pitched screech in the background, and I fought the urge to cringe. Iggy was in for it worse than I thought.

"They're all _cheerleaders_, buddy. Remember, the Cheer Worlds are here again." I sighed.

Iggy was silent for a few moments, so I just waited a while and ate my PopTart while he figured out what he wanted to say. And trust me, it was _not _what I expected. Not at all.

"Oh. About the Cheer Worlds," Iggy began, trailing off.

"What about them?" I prompted, resisting the urge to grit my teeth.

If Iggy said anything wrong, than my shoe might just go flying through the glass door. I'm not much of a vent-in-silence person.

"Oh, so you know how Nudge is all...psycho about that type of stuff?"

"Do I ever."

Nudge, Iggy's adopted sister, was twelve, talkative, and a _huge _supporter of the Cheer Worlds. Every year she had a little party with her friends so they could eat snacks and watch the competition on TV and cheer on the team they were supporting, which changed every year.

"Well, she got some tickets. Three, to be exact. Well, Mom got her three. Anyway, one's for her. One's for me, because I'm being _forced _to take her!" Iggy literally growled. But it wasn't very convincing, if you know what I mean.

"And the last one?" I asked, afraid of the answer. Very, very afraid.

"It was for Nudge's friend, but she can't go. So Mom says I can bring a friend along so it's not so much torture. So..._please _come and save me from being one of those people that cheers for the cheerleaders!"

My jaw dropped, and my phone just about went down with it. Seriously? Iggy expected me to go with him? Why would I want to watch a bunch of overly-peppy girls jump around for a medal?

"C'mon, Fang," Iggy said, obviously sensing my thoughts. "It might not be as bad as we think it is. After all, girls in skirts..."

I pictured Iggy waggling his eyebrows, which he was notorious for. The guy wasn't creepy enough to be called a pervert, but it's not like he doesn't enjoy girls in bikinis at the beach every day.

"Fa-ang," Iggy practically whined. He sounded notoriously like Nudge.

The last thing I needed was a whiney Iggy, trust me.

"Fine, fine! Whatever! Just...don't whine. Seriously, dude."

"Deal!"

**Max**

"Alright, girls," our coach Terri said, clapping her hands as we finished the run-through of our routine. At the YMCA, no less.

Terri thought it would be helpful for us to arrive in Orlando, Florida a week _before _Cheer Worlds took place, so that we could get used to our surroundings. Which, okay, was a good idea, since we pretty much choked at the Jamfest Nationals due to never having practiced in that room before. But the bad thing was that we didn't have a bunch of good equipment or a private gym, like at home. Nope. We had the big spring floor at the YMCA.

Terri continued, "The double downs are starting to get sloppy. So we're going to do them one-by-one and critique each other. Lissa, you go first."

Lissa, my best friend, the biggest kiss up, and undoubtedly the girl with the best double downs, stepped forward, smiling hugely and politely at Terri.

"Just remember, Lissa, to stay tight, twist at your highest point, and try to keep those legs from crossing, especially on the second twist. Let's do it from a scorpion."

Lissa got with a group and, on the count, they shot her up. She pulled her leg behind her head, gripping her toes with both hands. The bases dipped together, threw, and Lissa twisted cleanly down to be caught by her group.

"Good job, Lissa," Terri encouraged.

"Thanks!" Lissa hopped over to stand by me.

"Who's next?" Terri called. Nobody volunteered because, even though Terri was acting nice right now, she could be _strict _if something wasn't done the way she wanted it.

"I nominate Max," Lissa said after a few moments of silence.

I looked over at her, biting my lip and giving her "the look," while she smiled innocently at me. Oh, that girl.

"Max, great." Terri smiled, patting my shoulder and pushing me gently to the stunt group. "Just do what Lissa did, okay?"

I got in my place, putting my hands on Rachel's and Beth's shoulders. Crystal put her hands on my hips, and called, loud and clear, "One, two!" I hopped in, and my group launched me up.

I'm taller than most flyers at five foot eight. But I'm naturally thin, like I have light bones or something, so my weight is good. But most of the time the bases don't fly because of their weight. They're usually the ones that are afraid of heights. And every time we try to get somebody new to fly, Terri says, "Remember, it's not the height your scared of. It's the fall, which isn't going to happen."

I pulled my leg up behind my head, grabbing my ankle with both hands. I heard Crystal call the counts, felt the bases dip, and I crossed my arms and tried to stay tight as the bases threw me and I twisted two times before being caught. The girls put me down, and I looked at Terri.

"The scorpion was great, as usual, but your legs just crossed a little on the second twist. Just stay tight. Most girls do that, so the judges won't be too picky on it."

"M'kay." I skipped back to my spot beside Lissa, glad that my moment in the spotlight was over. "Just for the record," I said to my redheaded best friend, "I totally hate you."

Lissa flipped her hair over her shoulder, crossed her arms, and pursed her lips in a cocky little smile.

"Whatever, you'll get over it."

"Alright, girls, practice is over for today," Terri called. "Head to the hotel, go out and party, I don't care. But practice starts at ten tomorrow morning, so just make sure you're not too exhausted."

We all headed over to get our things. I threw a sweatshirt on over my blue sports bra, took off my cheer shoes for some sandals, and took the big bow out of my hair. Outside of practice I didn't like people to look at me like I was just one of the dozens of cheerleaders here for Worlds.

"Hey, Max," Lissa said, jogging over to catch up to me by the doors.

Our hotel was just across the street, so I was planning on just going over there and relaxing, maybe getting some Chinese takeout since that's the best food there is in the whole world.

"Beth and Amber and I are going to Daytona Beach for a few hours. Wanna come?"

"I don't know. Practice is at ten, so I might just go to the hotel and chill out for tonight."

"Come _on_, Max," Lissa begged. "Don't be such a goodie-goodie for once! Besides, Terri said specifically that we could go out and party if we wanted. All we're doing is going to the beach, maybe flirt with a guy or two."

I looked around, bouncing on my feet a little bit. Going to the beach _did _sound really fun, and Terri had said we could do whatever, as long as we would be able to do the routine tomorrow. But I wasn't much of a go-to-the-beach, flirt-with-the-locals type of vacationer.

But really, who would it hurt?

"I guess that sounds like fun. Let me just go grab my swimsuit."

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><p><strong>So there's the first chapter of the new story! I know it's going to be super-hard to make Max seem like a cheerleader, and it's gonna be semi-hard to make Fang seem like a surfer. But I'm gonna do my best.<strong>

**I'd also like to apologize to any surfers reading this. I know literally _nothing _about surfing, except for what I've seen in movies and read in _Soul Surfer_. So if I get anything too wrong, let me know and fill me in on some surf vocab, ha ha. I should be good to go on the cheerleading front.**

**This chapter is probably one of the longest I've written, and it'll be pretty hard to live up to. But I'll sure try to make the rest of the chapters good.**

**And last but not least, I'm moving in six days. I'm so sad!**

**You can cheer me up with some reviews, though (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). I hope you enjoyed! (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Fang**

What was I thinking when I said yes to Nudge and Iggy's invitation to the Cheer Worlds? The only thing that I found _good _about them was the fact that the beach was usually empty because the tourists would rather watch a bunch of people throw each other around then actually do something worth their time. Like, say, surfing.

But I wasn't going to worry - too much - about next week for today. I had a competition coming up in a few weeks, just a non-important practice one before competitions got serious and started, well, _mattering_. So Iggy and I were heading to the beach, since we were both doing the competition, to catch a few waves and just chill out.

"The waves are looking good," Iggy said, pointing out the window of my truck as we passed an area where we could see the beach.

The waves weren't the biggest I'd seen them, and they certainly weren't as big as they would be once bigger competitions got started, but there were a few barrels and the water was choppy. It would be good practice to just try and keep up with the direction of the water for this. It was pretty windy, so Ig and I would have to stay on our toes all day today. Which, together, we sure as hell wouldn't.

I parked in the sand parking lot and got out of my truck, slamming the door, which rocked the whole frame. I handed Iggy his surfboard, grabbed my own, and then we jogged toward the beach.

I fell down in the sand and put the leash from my board around my ankle, and then Iggy and I stood on the edge of the water. I bit the inside of my cheek, squinting my eyes against the sunlight reflecting off the water, and checked out the water.

"I'm seeing the most barrels over here," Iggy finally blurted, pointing slightly to the right. He was right - I'd seen all those monster waves too. One was just forming, going about halfway to the beach before it collapsed back, sending water flying.

"Yeah, but the wind's starting to come in stronger from the left," I said, arguing with myself. Go with the big barrels now, go and wait for the super-big barrels. "Let's head that way."

Iggy was practically bouncing up and down on his toes, just wanting to be in the water. Plus, the guy has energy. Lots of it. At my ninth birthday party we had a bounce house, and my uncle literally had to pull Iggy out by his feet because it was cake time. All of us kids were exhausted, and Ig was just getting started.

"Let's make it a contest," Iggy decided smugly. He was a competitive guy. "I'll go out to the right, you go to the left. Whoever gets the most waves without falling has to buy the other Wendy's whenever they want it."

"You're on." I grinned.

While Iggy dived forward, paddling quickly in hopes of getting the soonest barrel, I stuck my board in the sand and pulled my shirt over my head, putting my sandals on top of it so it wouldn't blow away. Then I dived into the water and paddled out as far as it would work, ignoring the burn in my arms.

By the time I was out there, small waves were beginning to gather, and I just sat through them. Iggy had already gotten two waves, but he was on his third when he wiped out. So this was my chance.

I glanced behind me, saw the first sign of a wave forming, and started to paddle forward. I jumped up, got balanced, and rode the wave. It curled over me into a barrel, the first I'd had in a while, and I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I turned sideways. I squatted down, making myself as small as I could bee inside the tube of water, and some of it splashed onto my face and chest. But I finally broke out, and I saw Iggy smack the water as he saw the huge barrel I'd just gotten.

"Oh, yeah, Ig," I shouted at him, nodding and being, okay, a little cocky. "You should always listen to me!"

"Oh, shut up!" Iggy yelled, but across the distance and over the sound of the water I could just barely hear it.

I laughed and shook my head, jumping in the water and then getting back on my surfboard to paddle back and wait for more waves.

Iggy and I ended our contest a little over twenty minutes later, when he finally gave up, realizing that the waves in his area were gone and mine were still coming strong. I'd gotten six waves, and he'd gotten four.

We were floating on our surfboards on our backs, way far off of shore. Iggy was jabbering on about something that I'd stopped listening to about three words into it, and I was just laying back, my legs dangling off my board, an arm slung over my eyes, soaking up the sun.

Actually, it was about nine o'clock, so the sun was gone. And the beach was empty. It was quiet, except for the lapping water and, obviously, Iggy going on and on and on.

Finally I decided I should get up and head back to the beach to get my phone and see if anybody had called or if Mom needed me. I sat up, groaning as my back and neck popped, and glanced over at Iggy.

Iggy was lying on his stomach on his board with all of his limbs dangling off, and his annoying never-ending story had been replaced with a light snore.

Quietly, I reached over and shoved the sleeping Iggy into the water. He came up, sputtering, not long later, and shot me a death glare as he pulled himself out of the water and onto his board.

"Not even cool, man," Iggy muttered. "Water got up my nose."

I looked back at the beach, which wasn't as far away as I'd thought. To my dismay, there were four outlines on the beach, all of them small and easily identifiable as girls. And cheerleaders.

And how could I tell they were cheerleaders? Well that, my friends, is a very good question, that is very easily answered.

One of them was tumbling - literally, of course - down the beach. She landed on my stuff and fell down, plopping on her butt in the dirt.

Iggy and I looked at each other, sighed, and headed toward the beach.

**Max**

Even though Daytona Beach was only about an hour from Orlando, my legs were sore when I stepped out of Amber's mom's car in the sand parking lot. Probably from all those toe touches and stretches today. We'd done a lot more than usual.

Beth and Amber hooked their elbows and walked alongside each other, talking about whatever, and Lissa and I did the same. Most of the team was really close, and we were all good friends, but Beth and Amber got along better, as did Lissa and I.

"Look at _that _sexy car," Lissa said sarcastically, pointing at a faded blue truck that was rusting, well, _everywhere_.

I just nodded, trying to roll my shoulders as we headed down to the water. I was sore everywhere tonight. I'd have to stretch before practice tomorrow.

The beach was empty, which surprised me. Yeah, it was nine, but I'd assumed there would be little bonfires lining the beach with teenagers like in all the movies. But I, of course, really needed to stop getting some of my basic knowledge from movies.

"Lissa, Max," Amber hissed from a little ways behind us. We turned to look at her. "Look!" She pointed out toward the water.

Not far off, we could see two figures laying down. I couldn't tell if they were just floating in the water like dead bodies or what, but I figured that they probably had a surfboard or a floatie or something. I could tell, even from this distance, that they were guys, which is probably why Amber told us.

"Cool. Whatever, we'll flirt when they come in," Lissa said.

She took off her shorts so that she was in her swimsuit, and she took off her sling bag and handed me a videocamera.

"Record me?" she asked.

"Sure."

I turned the camera on and fixed it on Lissa, and I followed her as she did a few back handsprings into a layout. When she landed on the hard-packed sand, no doubt stunning the nerves and muscles in her feet, she hopped around for a moment to get them back going.

"Anyone else want recorded before I shut this thing off?" I asked, turning to Beth and Amber.

"Sure," Beth said, kicking off her sandals and pulling her hair into a sloppy ponytail. "I'll try a full."

I thought Beth was getting a little cocky, doing a full on the beach when it was obvious Lissa's layout had hurt, but who was I to argue? Beth was without a doubt one of the best tumblers on our team, with some of the best double fulls I'd seen from a cheerleader, so I knew she wouldn't hurt herself.

I followed Beth with the camera as she did a round-off, two back handsprings, and finally a layout with a full twist. She landed right on a pile of something I couldn't see in the dark, and flew backward and landed on her butt.

We all froze, afraid for a second that she'd hurt herself. But when she saw that she was just bright red with humiliation we all doubled over laughing. Lissa had to hold onto my arm to keep herself from falling over she was laughing so hard.

"It wasn't that funny, guys," Beth said furiously as she stood up, wiping sand off her butt. "I would've landed it if I hadn't tripped on..."

"My stuff," a new voice said, from behind Lissa and I.

We all turned to see two guys. They were about the same height, but the blonde one was a little bit scrawnier, and I wondered if he was a local, because he sure as hell wasn't tan. The other, on the other hand, was _very _tan, and he had a muscley build that I swear he was showing off, since he was only wearing some swim trunks. They both had surfboards under their arms.

"Oh." Beth scratched her head awkwardly. "Uh, sorry about that."

"It's no big deal," the blonde guy said. "My buddy Fang here just gets a little grumpy when he's hungry." He patted the taller guy, Fang, on the arm.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me, Iggy. Wendy's is sounding pretty good right now." He smiled smugly at the blonde one, Iggy.

"Screw you, man," Iggy said, punching Fang playfully and then grabbing his surfboard and jogging away.

Fang crouched down, scooped up his things, and then he walked away too.

Did I imagine that sidelong glance he flickered at me? Oh, yeah, I must've. I don't get all silly like Lissa over guys. No way.

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><p><strong>And there you go!<strong>

**I realize that I had a few mistakes in chapter one, because I wrote it late and I don't, you know, think past midnight, but I went back and corrected it all. I think.**

**Anywho, I move tomorrow! So nervous! :s**

**Again, I'm not exactly a surfer so...please forgive me if any of my surfing vocab or knowledge is, you know, wrong.**

**PEACELOVINGIRL****: Nope, I'm not moving there. Unfortunately. I'm moving all the way to Georgia! :(**

**Shayna-18****: Yeah, I might try Blur after this. It'd definitely be something I've never tried before, but it would be a fun challenge. :)**

**ISuckAtUsernames:****I have literally no clue what any of that in the first paragraph of your review meant. Jeezums. Well I sure hope all the surf stuff is right!**

**Okey doke. Got 26 reviews for chapter one. All I'm gonna ask for is 25 because A) I'm super-nice, and B) everyone knows the first chapter gets more reviews than the rest. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Max**

Being at the beach so late (okay, so it was like eight o'clock, but I like to sleep!) was definitely a bad idea. A _terrible _idea, judging by how exhausted I felt the morning right after.

My phone alarm went off at nine o'clock so that I'd have an hour before practice to eat breakfast and throw stuff on. And usually nine o'clock isn't too terrible a time to wake up at. Seven was _way _too early, eight I could deal with, and nine was usually not too early for me.

Usually.

This morning I groaned pitifully, rolled over, and slid my phone off the table by my bed at the hotel. It dropped to the floor, unplugging itself from the charger as it went, and the alarm stopped as soon as it hit the floor.

_Aaahhh..._

"Max! What are you doing?" screeched my mom's voice.

It felt like I'd shut the alarm off about two seconds ago, but when I squinted my eyes open and glanced over, I realized that I only had twenty minutes till practice started.

"Aw, crap," I muttered, rolling out of bed.

"You are so irresponsible," Mom was still spouting, "for behaving this way! You've begged since you were thirteen to have your own hotel room, and your father and I finally listen, and this is how we're repaid? Well you can bet your bottom that you won't be getting a hotel room to yourself for a long time."

I rolled my eyes as Mom went on and on with her rant, and was quick to throw on some spandex and a few layered tank tops with a lime green one on top. I threw my hair lazily into a sloppy ponytail, wound a big, unmatching red bow into my hair, and threw my shoes on.

"That's great, Mom, just great," I finally interrupted so that I could get a few words in. "I'm gonna run down and get breakfast then head to practice. I'll see you later on."

I went down to the hotel's breakfast room, poured some waffle batter into the maker, and stood there tapping my foot impatiently while I waited.

I _so _didn't need my mom getting on my ass just because I slept in. Granted it was for forty minutes, but I was going to make it to practice anyway. _Nobody _on our team would miss practice if there was another option.

The punishment for being late was a handstand for ten minutes against the wall (what? We're cheerleaders, not elite gymnasts). Difficult and excruciating on your arms, but doable. Now the punishment for being _absent _at practice...

Well, nobody actually knows what happens if we miss practice. Everybody's too scared to actually miss it to find out. So it's all basically just a big myth that the punishment will be so physically difficult that it will kill a person, and nobody is brave enough to test it.

After I scarfed down my waffle, I put my shoes on and hurried over to the YMCA.

I arrived with two minutes to spare.

"Close one, Max," Terri said, tapping her watch.

"But I made it," I said breathlessly.

"And you've got syrup _all over _your face," Lissa said, giggling as she sat down in her butterfly stretch.

I went over and sat by her, sticking one leg out to the side and gripping the toe as I pulled myself down until my nose touched my knee.

Ugh. I was so sore. I had no reason to be more sore than Lissa or Beth, whose feet had to be _killing _them from tumbling on the sand. I was just tired, and being tired made me sore and grumpy and always complaining.

So sorry if I take my grumpiness out on y'all.

"Hey, Max," Lissa hissed, trying to be quiet since Terri was explaining the conditioning. "Beth and I are going back to Daytona Beach later to flirt with Fang and Iggy. Wanna tag along?"

I sighed, trying to think of some reason to _not _go. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of a good enough excuse, so I went down the only other path I saw fit.

"What makes you think they'll even be there?"

"I had Beth Facebook stalk him. Yeah, turns out he's a pro surfer. In an interview he said he surfs everyday, so we're just kind of hoping he'll be there at the same time again."

I started to roll my shoulders and wrists while I glanced over at Beth, who was, okay, a pretty major Facebook stalker. You want to find out something about any person on Facebook, go see Beth. Please. She loves the publicity.

"You guys are such stalkers," I muttered, standing up and stretching my calves.

"Whatever. So will you come. _Please_? Fang _so _gave you a look yesterday." Lissa's eyes were as big as a puppy's as she begged. And her polka dot bow kind of looked like doggy ears, which added to the effect.

"A look?" I asked without realizing it.

So I _hadn't _imagined that glance Fang shot me after all! Not that I was all that excited or anything... But still! And while I had just seen a glance from a cute surfer boy, Lissa had seen "a look" from a professional athlete who she probably assumed was rich.

See how differently my best friend and I think?

"Oh. My God." Lissa's jaw was practically on the floor at this point, and I knew I'd said the wrong thing before. "You actually _care _that Fang looked at you! The Great Maximum Martinez finally proves she can _like _a guy!"

"Shut. Up. I don't care," I insisted, knowing that it was a lost cause. "Besides, what kind of guy is named Fang?"

"Well, Beth actually found out that that's only his nickname, and it has something to do with a childhood story, but -"

"Okay! If I go will you shut up about him already?

Lissa grinned hugely, and for a moment I pictured her hair as fire, as if she was the devil himself.

"Gladly."

**Fang**

Iggy was still yawning as we pulled up to his house, which I didn't understand.

I mean, sure, we'd gotten up at five-thirty to go surf. And yeah, Iggy's generally not an early riser. Like, at all. The kid could sleep till dinner if his parents let him.

But how could he _still _be tired, after having surfed for two hours?

I always woke up as soon as I was in the water. The chill of it in the morning would go through my skin and muscle down to the bones, and whenever I was submerged the water seemed to clear the sleep from my eyes. Plus surfing always woke my brain up, since you have to actually _think _in order to balance on a slippery board on a wave.

"Wanna come in for breakfast?" Iggy asked after a moment of just sitting in my truck, savoring the heat.

To any person not from Florida it would seem like scorching and dry weather. But to people familiar with it, like Iggy and I, we could feel the slight chill in the breeze and the small amount of humidity in the air.

So I had my heater blasting and I had on a gray hoodie with my swim trunks. There were goosebumps on my legs.

"Why not." I shrugged, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and shoved them in my sweatshirt pocket as I got out of the truck.

I helped Iggy grab his board and we took it out to the little shed beside his house, and then we went into the house. Straight to the kitchen. Big mistake.

"Ew. Iggy. Fang!" I heard a familiar voice scream. Nudge, Iggy's adopted sister, jumped the counter, where she'd been sitting, and attacked me with a hug.

"Sis, gross. No PDA with my friends, please," Iggy demanded.

I peeled Nudge off of me and took in her appearance, curls and all. Nudge's hair was...wild. Nope, that's an understatement. Her hair was out of control. Still an understatement. She was wearing Piglet pajama pants and a gray sweatshirt with her middle school's logo.

"Where've you been, Fang?" Nudge asked, sounding considerably like my mother. Creepy. "I haven't seen you since my birthday, and that was just when you needed to come and borrow some of Iggy's surfboard wax!"

"Sorry, Nudge," I said, trying to sound sincere. And probably failing. I'm not much of a sincere type person. "I've been busy lately. Training for nationals and whatnot."

Nudge skipped lightly back over to where she'd been sitting on the counter. She pulled herself up and put a spoonful of Reece's Puffs in her mouth. She was looking at me like she was afraid I was still sad over my fourth place take at nationals last year.

Which I totally wasn't.

"Don't worry, Fang. You and Iggy will trump that Sam guy. The last wave he got shouldn't have even counted, since it was after the buzzer. And who wears a dress to come watch their boyfriend compete anyway? Sam's girlfriend was about as smart as he was. His sportsmanship was _pathetic_. He didn't deserve that first place at all." Nudge's mouth was moving the speed of light now. "The trophies last year were ugly anyway. You'll win this year and then you can totally rub it in Sa -"

"Nudge!" Iggy yelled, finally bursting.

With Nudge everybody's _supposed _to handle her over-talkativeness politely and try not to yell. So far Iggy's always beat me to the whole yelling part, but believe me when I say I've been close. I've been closer than close. I've actually taken in a breath to start yelling. But Iggy beat me to it.

"I'm just saying!" Nudge cried, defending herself.

I shook my head while the siblings continued to argue, and I poured myself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and fell back into the recliner. I picked up the remote and started to browse through the hundreds of Satellite channels.

Iggy's home is my home. My home is Iggy's home. It's been that way since we were little kids, as long as I can remember. Hell, I think Iggy and I thought we were brothers until we were about twelve. Then the whole "gangsta" thing became popular and I would call him my "brotha from anotha motha." Yup. Because we were cool like that.

I finally picked one of the local channels, which was going to go over some of the surfers in the Daytona Beach area who had qualified to compete in nationals. Not trying to sound bigheaded, but I kind of wanted to see if they would talk about Nick "Fang" Walker.

My show didn't start for another ten minutes, and unfortunately the show before it was showing a few of the senior elite teams who'd qualified for the Cheer Worlds.

And don't go thinking that, just because I know a level is senior elite, I know all about cheerleading. No way. It was in the little summary box.

What would I want to know about a "sport" where girls pranced around in short skirts and tops synonomous to sports bras?

It was just finishing up with the Maryland Twisters All Stars and it was going on to a team that I recognized from last year's Worlds. Because their outfits were deep green and silver, which were my two favorite colors, and also not a color that any other team had. It was unique. They placed...second last year? Third? They got a medal, but it wasn't gold.

If I had to pick a team to be my favorite, it would be the Georgia All Star Panthers **(A/N: Completely made-up team.)**. Because, like I said, the colors.

The team they were showing was the senior elite, all girl unlimited one. Probably because it was the only team to place at last year's Worlds.

I furrowed my eyebrows as I saw a familiar face or two, and I grabbed the remote to rewind it. I paused it when I saw the girls I'd recognized.

They were each being held up by different groups, but they were close enough that they each had one arm around the other's waist, and they were using their free arm to pull their outside legs up.

On the left was the girl with the auburn hair who'd tripped on my stuff last night. On the right was the taller blonde one, who I'd given a second glance because her eyes were so pretty brown.

And don't assume I always say girls' eyes are pretty. Hers just stuck out.

Oh, God. I knew she was a cheerleader, but why - _why _- did she have to be an actual _good _one, on one of those focused teams that probably banned dating?

Well there goes the flirting I was planning on the next time I saw her.

**Okay, everybody, just a few quick notes.**

**1) Max's team is completely made-up. So don't go searching the Georgia All Star Panthers. If that's a real time, I will be quite surprised to find that out.**

**2) If you want to read a good Maximum Ride fanfiction, check out "The Ultimate LoveHate Relationship" by ISuckAtUsernames. It's hilarious. Also, ForeverDeathNote will be posting their first fanfic _ever _soon. Look out for that.**

**3) Got 31 reviews last chapter. 35 this time? Please? It might help my homesickness go away. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Max**

A lot of people wonder why I, of all people, am a cheerleader.

People picture cheerleaders and they see girls that like skirts, football guys, glitter, and gossip. And I don't particularly enjoy any of those, except for our cheer skirts and football guys. I am, after all, a teenage girl.

Back on topic now.

By the time I was five I'd started climbing. Hell, by the time I was _one _I'd started climbing! But somewhere around age five was when the whole jumping phase began. It started with me jumping off of Dylan's loft bed and breaking my nose (it's still a little crooked). And not long after that, I jumped off the top of the monkey bars at school.

So that I could do my little daredevil things, Mom stuck me in gymnastics when I was six. And I _hated _it. Every time I was doing something remotely fun, there was a mat and a spotter prepared to catch me. And what fun is _that_? But gymnastics didn't last long. After I tried to swing from the uneven bars to the foam pit and landed on a coach, they gave me the boot.

When I was seven I started cheerleading. And, while those coaches were a little more leniant on letting me do my tumbling into a pit without a spot, they wanted me to take stunting slowly. Which pissed little seven-year-old me off. After I threw a huge fit about them not letting me take my bow and arrow to an extension, they warned me that if I did anything like it again, I would be out of their gym. I listened.

So we took the stunting slow. I had all the basics - bow and arrows, scorpions, all that jazz - and I could double down out of them all from an extension by the time I was ten. I was such a natural, quick-learner at stunting that by the time I was thirteen my coaches were already talking a three-sixty ball up tick tock, original stunts, big stuff like that.

Tumbling, on the other hand... I _hated _tumbling. I wasn't a power tumbler, even though I wanted so badly to be one. Some girls had double fulls by the time they were twelve, and I got mine down completely when I was fourteen. And I was dead set on getting a standing full, but after multiple failed attempts, we shelfed that one.

So I'm famous for my big difficulty stunts, Lissa's famous for her gorgeous double downs, and Beth's famous for her huge tumbling. Of course, famous in cheerleading doesn't really mean everybody knows your name. Just everybody in the cheer world.

I was sitting in the back of Beth's car beside Lissa, going through our routine in my head. Yes, we choked at nationals. And yes, I was indeed the flyer of two of the four stunts that fell. So I could afford to fuck up here. This was _Worlds. _Nationals was child's play next to this.

"Max, stop thinking about the damn routine," Lissa said, snapping her fingers in front of my face to snap me out of my trance. I blinked rapidly, bringing myself back to where we were now, in the car on the way to the beach.

"I wasn't thinking about the routine," I lied. Well, it wasn't technically a lie. I was thinking about the routine, but about how we'd choked before, not about how I should perfect it.

"Okay, you need to just _chill_," Lissa demanded, turning sideways so that she was completely facing me. "You know this routine better than Spongebob knows Patrick. Better than ice knows cream. Better than -"

"Okay, Lissa, please stop shoving your little friendship quotes down my throat! I know I know the routine. I'm just questioning my ability to _do _it."

"Well _don't_. Seriously. Your double downs are starting to get so good they're comparable to _mine_. Your double full is gorgeous. And your stunting is going to go perfectly fine during the competition. I swear. Now stop thinking about it." Lissa got closer, so close that I could see the little blue specks in her deep green eyes. She shoved her hand toward me. "Pinky promise you won't think about it anymore?"

I laughed, "Pinky promise." We hooked pinkies and then Lissa went back to reading her Vogue magazine.

I leaned my forehead against the car window, watching as palm trees and beaches just flitted by. _Don't think about it, don't think about it, _I chanted in my head. I'd pinky promised Lissa. And even though I'm not the kind of person that bets my life on pinky promises, I really wanted to just not think about it. Just for one teensy weensy day to be carefree.

"And we are officially _here_!" Beth cried out in excitement as she parked in the familiar gravel parking lot. She probably wasn't really that excited that we were back at the beach. It was probably more excitement that she could get out of the car and away from Lissa's singing.

"Thank God!" I agreed, practically jumping out of the car. I was partially claustraphobic (not too good when you're crammed around a bunch of people right before going up into a stunt) and the fact that us three girls were inside that tiny little car had made it a little clammy.

Not that it was much cooler outside. It was one hundred and four degrees here in sunny Daytona Beach, and it showed.

The beach was bustling, kids with plastic pails and shovels, girls in bikinis on bikes, guys with surfboards scanning the beach. I could practically see the sweat dissipating off of each and every one of them. It was disgusting.

"So Max," Lissa said, coming up beside me and nudging me gently, "see Fang anywhere?"

I rolled my eyes and started down the beach.

**Fang**

People think of surfers and they think of shaggy bleached hair, skinny little dudes, and lazy voices yelling, "Hang loose, dude!" So I guess it's pretty understandable that a lot of people don't really see me as one.

I'm more of the quiet type and, altlhough I've got the tan and the shaggy hair, I don't even have the overall _appearance _of a surfer dude. But out on the water, I am _the _surfer guy. People say it's like I have a sixth sense, I just know when a good wave is coming, and I know exactly how I should handle it. It's a gift, I guess, one I never really notice when I'm actually out on the water.

I'd gone surfing earlier this morning with Iggy, for instance, and had gotten one of the best barrels of my life. But when I was in there, I didn't think a coherent thought even for a second. I don't really even know what I thought. It obviously wasn't important.

"Fang!" Iggy cried, bursting through the unlocked door and into my house. I made myself at home at his place, and he did the same here.

"Shut _up,_" I hissed vehemently. "I'm watching Angel, and I'm not supposed to have friends over."

"Oh, big whoop. Just tell your mom I busted in and you tried to make me leave but I wouldn't. Problem solved."

I rolled my eyes and said, "What did you want so badly you had to practically break my front door?"

Iggy looked back at the door, which had already swung back into place, as if he feared he'd actually broken it. When all was clear, he turned back to me. "We've _got _to go surfing right now, man. There's a huge swell at the beach."

More surfing felt like death to me at that moment. I was exhausted from my early morning surf, and from the extra practices for the competition coming up, and all my muscles were aching from lifting weights the night before. I felt dead. I didn't want to get up and be active.

"I don't know...," I muttered, racking my brain for excuses. "It's probably really full right now anyway. And it's hot out. Let's just sit this one out, chill."

"_Sit this one out_?" Iggy cried after a moment of silence. "We can't sit _anything _out, Fang. We need all the practice we can get. Think about it, dude. Nationals are a lot closer than they seem. A month."

"Exactly." I sat up to continue my argument. "A whole month. We've got all the time in the world."

"Let me re-word that," Iggy said, sitting down. As if to make the news easier. "A month equals four and a half weeks, buddy."

We just sat there for awhile, staring at each other like we were both insane. Which, with all the surfing we'd been doing lately, we probably were. I was stressed, felt dead, and hadn't realized how short a month really was. Great.

What was worse was that Iggy was becoming the smart one.

"Yeah, yeah," I murmured, standing up and putting my bowl of Ramen Noodles aside. "Let me just go grab my board and put on some trunks. Yeah, we need to go surf some more."

Twenty or so minutes later, we were at the beach. It was sweltering hot, and I was pretty much sweating the moment I got out of my truck. And it was _crammed_. Literally. There were probably hundreds of people out there relaxing. How could they relax with it this hot and sticky out, and with that many people just bustling about around them? Weren't they at all bothered that they were practically sharing a towel with strangers while they were tanning?

"Dude, chill," Iggy said. He grabbed my board, handed it to me, and then got his own. We started heading down to the water. I had to practically push people aside so that I could get through the clumps of them.

We finally reached the water and I was all-business as I caught as many waves as possible. On a normal day I would get about seven in the time period I surfed. Today I got five, and only rode three of them all the way through.

I'd like to have thought that it was just an off day, but I knew better. My muscles were so sore from lifting that they weren't listening to me. My eyes were so droopy from lack of sleep that I couldn't keep them open through a wave.

I needed to take a break.

Iggy stayed out there, surfing with the gazillions of other surfers, while I headed to the Snack Shack to get a smoothie so that I could just sit down and relax for a little while. I got an extra large strawberry-banana smoothie and headed over to where there was a little clump of sand that wasn't jam-packed with people. I started heading there a little too eagerly, not watching what I was doing.

So it's not _technically _my fault that I not only ran into a girl and knocked her down, but also dumped my entire smoothie on her.

"I am so sor -" I began, reaching down to help the girl up, but stopped when I saw her.

It was Max. Wearing some tight-ass little black shorts and a bright green tank top with a ridiculous little bow. All of her was covered with pinkish mush from my smoothie. Including her face, which looked _pissed_.

"Seriously?" she snapped, and she grabbed my hand to pull herself up. She shivered and her teeth chattered while I just stood there like an idiot. "Well? Are you going to offer me an apology? A towel? _Anything_?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," I stammered. I took my black beach towel away from around my shoulders and handed it to her. I tried not to feel smug when she glanced down at my bare chest. "Sorry about that again."

Max sighed heavily, then said, "Not your fault I'm in a pissy mood today. Sorry about my little freakout there."

"No biggie," I said, laughing under my breath a little.

"I'm going to sound like a total idiot when I say this," Max began once she was mostly cleaned off, "but can you help me find the parking lot? The gravel one right off the main road?"

I laughed and took my towel back from her, holding it at a distance so no smoothie gunk would get onto me.

"Sure - I'm actually parked there too," I said. Iggy could find his own ride home. "But it's kind of a long walk."

Max smiled almost flirtatiously, but not overly so like that redheaded bimbo friend of hers that was standing back with another girl. Max's friends, no doubt.

Max said, "No big deal; you can keep us company."

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><p><strong>1) I am <em>so <em>sorry - I didn't realize it'd been so long since my last update! But this chapter is pretty long, and it's not a complete filler. After all, we got Max's story and a little bit of Fang's background, and next chapter they'll actually talk! I'm taking this story nice and slow. ;)**

**2) I just realized you have to be super special when you type Fang's name. I was typing this up really quickly and I almost put "Fag." Which would have been embarrasing on my part.**

**3) I asked for 35 reviews for last chapter and got 31 - not bad, actually, considering Max and Fang didn't even talk in the last chapter. But since they did talk here, and you've got something to look forward to, can I get 35 this time? Purdy please with pickles on top?**

**~Abbi~**


	5. Chapter 5

**So I have school tomorrow. And I have to be there at seven. In the morning. And it's eleven at night. But I can't sleep so I figured, what the hell, why not start a new chapter? I am so going to regret this in the morning.**

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><p><strong>Max<strong>

Stupid Lissa and her stupid genius bribery skills. As I walked next to Fang as he was leading us to the parking lot (which, for the record, I _knew _the location of) I turned back to Lissa and shot her the most I'll-get-you-back-so-be-scared look I could manage.

Let's rewind a few minutes.

"Omigod, Max, there's Fang! Iggy must be somewhere else. I'll give you fifty bucks if you go over there and ask him, flirtingly, to help us get to the parking lot. Sixty if you wink at him."

"I don't want your money, Lissa."

"Okay, how about I never bribe you into coming to the beach to look at hot guys ever again? Okay, that's a lie. Until next Worlds? It's an offer you can't turn down, and it's as high as I'm going."

So here I was, smiling like an idiot at Fang, and shooting Lissa the most evil glares I could manage when he was looking away. The parking lot was half a mile from where we were now, and I'd been acting like a total ditz for almost five minutes. I didn't know how much longer I could pull it off.

Although Fang _was _a pretty good-looking guy. You can't really deny that. He was wearing some swim trunks and he'd thrown on a white shirt, but the water on him had made it see-through and I had a hard time not looking. He kept shaking his head to get his hair out of eyes, and water droplets from his shaggy hair would fall onto my cheeks.

And it almost felt like he was flirting. With _me_. Flirting back, I mean.

"So I'm assuming you three are all cheerleaders? Like, the Worlds ones?" Fang said, breaking me out of my trance in which I may or may not have been staring up at his slightly crooked nose.

I was quiet, so Lissa quickly said, "Sure are!" and shot me a death glare.

"Uh, yeah. Georgia Panthers." I shrugged, completely aware of how awkward I was being.

Fang opened his mouth to say something else, but Lissa quickly shouted, "Thank God! I see bathrooms! Guys, you wait here. Beth and I have to pee." Lissa snatched Beth's arm and ran toward the little bathroom shack. On the way she sent me a not-so-subtle look that said, "_You _flirt or else _I _will."

I racked my brain for something - anything - to say. But i was just so _awkward _around guys. Always had been. Well, not really. I'd just recently gotten out of my awkward phase, so this whole guys liking me thing was relatively new. And while I was a quick learner with cheer stuff, guys were completely confusing. At least the whiff of them I'd gotten were.

But Fang ended up speaking first and saving me the embarrassment.

"Any chance you can show me something cheerleader-y?" he asked.

"Only if you can show me something surfer-y sometime," I replied, putting my hands on my hips and facing him. Only after I'd said it did I realize it did come across as a little bit flirty.

Fang threw back his head and laughed, a big tremor rolling through his body as he did so, and all his muscles flexed. "We'll have to arrange that. But for now, show me a backflip or something sweet."

"Just something basic," I agreed. "I don't need an injury a week before Worlds."

I took a few steps back, glancing behind me to make sure everybody was a safe distance away. Then I trained my eyes on the ground and put my hands in a low V, my fingers clenched to make fists. I took one deep breath in, and on the exhale I swung my arms back and squatted. As my arms swung back up I set my gaze above me and tucked my legs, holding my knees with my hands until I landed. Just out of habit, I put on a huge grin and put my hands on my hips once I landed the easy back tuck.

Fang whistled and raised his eyebrows. "Nice," he commented. "But I can do that in my sleep." He shot me a cocky look.

"Oh, is that a challenge? Okay, then, do it." I watched his face, but it stayed neutral. Damn. "Oh, wait. Let me get my phone ready to call an ambulance." Just for show, I pulled out my cell and pretended to dial nine-one-one, and then I rested my finger on the call button, not pressing iit yet.

"Fine."

Fang did my normal approach, stepping back, making sure nobody was too close, and putting his arms in a very silly-looking low V. Then he swung.

Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God oh God. A trillion thoughts ran through my head in a split second. If he landed on his neck he could be paralyzed. Or worse: dead. Or he could under-rotate it and break a toe or something minor like that. Even if he _did _manage to make it, he might just get cocky and move on to something more risky.

Back tucks aren't dangerous. At all. _Unless _you don't have the right training leading up to learing them. Or, obviously, a spotter on the first one.

I leaped forward, knowing full well that it was too late to stop him from flipping, but I was sure going to try. While I was still in the air I realized that he was only crouching down and doing a sloppy backwards somersault. But my momentum was already carrying my body to him.

I landed on my knees in the sand right next to him, and my hands landed with a _slap! _on his chest. He was just laying on his back, looking at me in a mix between confusion and smugness.

I blushed furiously and quickly stood up, wiping sand off my knees. "I'm, uh, sorry about that. I thought you were actually going to do the tuck and I panicked, becaues it can be super dangerous for somebody without experience or a spotter to do something even relatively easy like that. Not that it's _easy_, but just to me because at my level I do it a lot. Sorry. I just didn't want you to... Uh, sorry. I was just -"

"Max." Fang's one word made me stop my stuttering.

I blushed even brighter red when I realized how long my little stammering fit had gone on. Not thinking of anything else to do, I put my arms out to help Fang up. He grabbed my hands and rocked forward, finally pulling himself to the balls of his feet.

His hands were huge and completely engulfed mine, and I tried to tell myself that I was only telling myself stories when I thought that his hands stayed around mine just a moment longer than necessary.

"Sorry about that," I muttered.

Fang sighed deeply. "Well, I _suppose _I can forgive you," he said sarcastically, "if you answer me just one tiny little question. Well, two."

"Okay, shoot."

"What's the deal with those shorts? I think they were made for a three-year-old, not you."

I just stared at Fang for a moment, and then I doubled over in laughter. I managed to get out some words between laughs. "Have you never been to a high school volleyball game? Seriously, Fang? They're called _spandex_. They supposedly allow your body more freedom."

"Well they don't look so comfy," Fang decided, and I realized he was looking at my legs.

I blushed again and, to direct his attention back to my face, said, "Second question?"

Fang's eyes found mine again, and I almost jumped with joy out of relief. I hadn't shaved for almost two days now. Yipes. If he'd been looking _closely_, that could've been bad.

"Oh, yeah. What's taking your friends so long in the bathroom?"

"Lissa and Beth?" I looked at the bathroom, as if that would give me an answer. Even though _I _already knew the answer to that question. Not that I'd tell him. "Hard telling."

At that moment the two appeared out of the little bathroom hut, looking very beautified for a one-hour trip back to our hotel. Unnecessarily so, if you're catching my drift. Not that Fang would notice anything suspicious. He was, after all, a guy.

"Ready to go?" I asked Lissa.

"Definitely," she said, smirking evilly. She must've seen the light blush on my cheeks.

We walked the rest of the way to the parking lot with our car, but this time we all walked together and Lissa and Beth joined the conversation. The conversation consisted of nothing particularly interesting. Just some random chatting, old stories, very vague family descriptions, and a couple very obvious questions from Lissa about Iggy.

So that's who she's got her eye trained on now, eh? Now that Fang was taken. At least in her eyes.

Lissa got in the driver's seat of the car, and Beth got in the passenger, putting some earphones in and closing her eyes and resting her head against the window of the car. I waited outside to say goodbye to Fang.

"So when did you want to see something surfer-y from me?" Fang asked. Oh, right. I'd forgotten about that.

"Whenever," I murmured.

"Well I've got a couple more cheerleader-y things I'd like to see myself," Fang said. "So let's swap numbers and we can decide later on. Iggy's probably looking for me by now anyways."

"Sounds good," I replied, fighting not to burst into song and dance in the parking lot.

I handed Fang my fancy touch-screen phone and he handed me a ratty old flip phone. I inserted my name and number, waited for him to do the same, and then we switched back.

"I'll talk to you later?" I verified.

"Yep. But I've really got to go find Iggy."

I chuckled. "You do that. See you later."

"Bye."

Fang started to jog back to the beach, and I stood there and watched him go until Lissa knocked on the car window, making me jump. I hopped into the back seat, got my iPod plugged in, and I laid down and thought for a while.

I decided that it was okay to flirt. As long as I didn't become a _total _ditz.

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><p><strong>There ya go. Not quite 2,000 words. And it's 11:33 exactly. Tomorrow when I get home from school I'll be updating this story again, but don't get all overexcited because it won't be a chapter. I was just reading through some reviews and I realized a lot asked me questions and stuff. So chapter 6 will just be me replying to some reviews.<strong>

**Review!:)**


	6. Review Replies

**What's up, party people? Ha. Just kidding. It's the end of summer, who wants to party?**

**Just so y'all know, I updated the story yesterday. So if you just saw and update and clicked on the story and came to the most previous chapter, then you need to rewind. Last chapter was the really cute little beach one. **

_**This **_**is just me replying to some reviews, because I usually do it like every ten chapters or something like that, but I've already got a hundred something, so I'll just do it now. I'm only replying to ones with questions and ones that said more than, "loved it;D update!"**

**So let's begin.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<strong>

ISuckAtUsernames: Ooh, your brother's a surfer boy! Is he hot? Actually, rewind. People tell me my brother's hot a lot and I'm like, "Um, I don't know, he's my brother?" So get a friends opinion and ask if your surfer brother with a hot Australian accent is cute. ;)

Shayna-18: Thanks for the compliments! I definitely feel like I have to write a lot or else my writing, like, degenerates. When my laptop was broken I hardly ever wrote, and now that it's fixed I'm like, "Wow, I suck." Haha, but thanks. :)

BunniesOfDoom: First off, I love your username. I don't know the story behind it or anything, but I just cracked up when I saw it. What level cheer are you? Maybe in a few years we'll both be at Worlds! :)

BlackBlueNSilver951: Yes, Max likes surfing. But just watching it. I imagine Fang is training for nationals. I don't know if there actually _is _a nationals for surfing (any surfers reading, let me know) because I'm definitely not a surfer, but for now that's what I'm planning to have Fang doing. But he's also doing a small competition a little before nationals.

desperatelyobvious: _No way _is Max going to be a girly-girl. Ever. I like OOC stories, but that's just..._too _OOC for Max. She's just a little tomboy-ish and she just happens to love cheerleading. Oh, and trust me, I know all about the stereotypes. First day at a new school today, and when I told people I did cheer they looked at me like, "So basically you're a girly gossiping slut?" Yeah. It sucked.

**CHAPTER TWO**

Fangalitious: Trust me, I know. All the stories for cheer in the Max Ride fandom have something about Fang being the jock, Max being the other jock, Lissa being the bitchy cheerleader, yada yada yada. Finally I got fed up with it and said, "What if some people want to read about _real _cheer, like I do?" And so here came this story! :)

desperatelyobvious: Oh my Gosh I love those kind of movies! Especially the really corny ones. The ones like, y'know, somebody throws a book, it ends up flying toward new ex-cheerleader with a tortured past, she does some neat acrobatic move to avoid it, everybody loves her. As much as I _wish _I'll see that someday, I doubt I will. And I really _don't _want to try and it and A) completely fail and humiliate myself or B) succeed and look like I'm milking it for popularity. :)

AutumnMTC: Yay, I got a gold star! Haha, in your faces! Just kidding. Maybe. A little. Anywho. Yes, those reviews annoy the living $%* out of me! So I really _do _appreciate how in-depth you went in your review. And how you gave me _constructive _criticism. Not like, "Wow, you freaking suck. Stop writing." Because if I ever got a review like that, I would _cry_. Anywho, thanks so much! :)

**CHAPTER THREE**

Wings-and-a-Fez: Going off of the words you gave in your review, I think the only word that is acceptable is (get ready, 'cause I'm bringing out the big guns) _FANGTASTIC_!

Serenaisbestezrq387: Thanks for the review! :) And as for you trying out for your cheer team, I'm _so _glad I was able to get this reply to you before your tryouts! Okay, so you asked if cheerleading was hard. Overall, it depends on your school team. Obviously all-star is more challenging, but generally the girls in all-star have been in cheer for a _long _time. But if you live in a big city and go to some huge high school, generally the cheer team is better than at a school in a little rural town. Some schools require tumbling (it really depends on yours) but even if yours doesn't I would recommend taking some tumbling classes, stretching every day, and definitely practicing jumps. Good luck! :)

ISuckAtUsernames: Just randomly, I think your username is quite genius. ;) Yeah, this is definitely my favorite fanfic I'm writing right now, just because I can randomly whip out, "And then Fang took off his shirt to expose his amazingly sexy abs." Just kidding. Because obviously Fang won't think that, and Max will _never _be that OOC in my stories. I hope. If she ever is, please send me a virtual slap.

Cheerbabex3333: I know, Cheer Extreme are like my favorites! I totally love them! It was too bad about Maddie's fall this year at Worlds. And in a documentary you could see they worked so hard. :( But they'll definitely come back strong next year. And I'll definitely be looking up the Georgia Allstars. :) Especially now that I live there. ;)

cherryblaster: Note to self: check out Periculum by . I will definitely be doing that (and reviewing that story) soon. :)

Owned by Max: Well of course! You can't have a cheer story and _not _mention the Maryland Twisters! Haha! :) What team do you cheer for? Maybe we'll see each other at competitions sometime! :)

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><p><strong>Okay, so now I'm caught up on review replies. Whew. Time for homework.<strong>

**But before we get to that, the school year is back! My first day is _over _(thank God). Made lots of new friends, adjusted to the new school well, and had a pretty good start to my sophomore year! :)**

**How did all of your guys' first days go? And what's your goal for the school year?**


	7. Chapter 6

**Fang**

I had a surfing competition coming up in just under a week. I couldn't wait to compete again, to get back out there and back on the track to kicking Sam's ass at nationals. However, I'm the type of person that focuses on the destination, not the journey to get there. And the journey to winning nationals?

"Twenty more _good _situps," Nudge barked. "Then you can jog down to the tree at the end of the beach and back." Nudge was acting as me and Iggy's personal trainer, since we had no will power and had eaten a whole pack of Oreos just between the two of us the night before. She'd even went out to the store and bought a whistle, convinced that it would push us to our limits.

Iggy and I finished our situps together and took off toward the tree, which was roughly fifty yards away.

"Dude," I panted, "your sister could be a drill sergeant."

"I'm so fucking proud," Iggy said, and his voice was dripping with sarcasm. His voice was practically a whine and sweat was pouring off of him.

While Iggy and I both hadn't worked out in a while and were, okay, both pathetically out of shape compared to what we usually were, we were still in decent shape. Iggy was tall and scrawny, much more of a runner than me. I had more muscle than Igs, but that, of course, meant that running hated me. And trust me, the feeling was mutual.

Iggy beat me back by a good thirty seconds, and by the time I was there he was already beginning his lap over to the pier. I cursed to myself and started my own lap over.

When we were done a few hours later, all of my muscles burned and I barely had the energy to carry my surfboard back to the truck. I dropped my board as soon as I got out of the water, and I dropped onto my back next to it. The small grains of sand dug into the skin of my back, and the sun burned my face so that the back of my eyelids appeared hot pink.

"Fang," came Iggy's voice, and the red behind my eyelids was replaced by black as Iggy blocked the sun from my face. "Get up, lazy-ass."

"Don't tell me what to do," I said. And there it was: Iggy's signature whiney voice, except now coming out of my own mouth. What have I sunk down to?

Iggy chuckled evilly and taunted, "Get up now or else I'll tell Angel about your new girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?" I opened my eyes and pretended to look confused. "I have a girlfriend? This is news to me, buddy. Is she hot?"

Iggy kicked the ground and a spray of sand covered me. I sat up, my abs burning painfully, and brushed some of the sand off, not feeling like going after the bits that stuck to my wet skin. I'd just shower later.

"_Max,_" Iggy said in a girly voice, and he batted his eyes and hit a very...feminine pose. "You can't honestly tell me that after yesterday you aren't going to ask her out. Although personally I see the Lissa girl as more of your type. You know, her hair's all fiery red, and you always talk about how you like it hot. Red hair is to fire as fire is to hot. Y'know?"

"No, Iggy, I don't." I stood slowly, still stalling to pick up my board. "When have I ever said that I like it hot?"

Iggy waggled his eyebrows and he said, "Buddy, don't pretend you haven't thought that. Not once. Ever. In your life."

"Hate to break it to you, Igs, but you're not a mind reader."

"What? I'm not a mind reader!" Iggy pretended to look around frantically. "_Noooooooooo!_"

"You, my friend, are a loser," I chuckled, and I dragged myself up painfully until I was standing. I was pretty sure that I could feel that package of Oreos coming right back up, and I figured that they wouldn't taste nearly as good the second time around. I swallowed, wincing, and willed the goo back into my stomach.

"Dude," Iggy chocked, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I'm pretty sure I just swallowed Oreo vomit."

"You're not alone, bud," I said weakly, and I reached down and scooped up my board, trying to ignore my aching muscles (as if that was possible). "Let's go home. I know you're not the biggest on personal hygeine, but I personally want to shower."

"The water would just rinse all the sweat off."

"That's what you think." I started walking, glancing over my shoulder. "Last chance, Igs. Stay with Nudge and get in some extra conditioning or go home and take a shower before coming back to surf?" Iggy wasted no time grabbing his board and sprinting after me once I said that.

When we got up to the boardwalk Iggy and I quickly rinsed all of the sand off of us in the outdoor showers (I hated getting sand on my seats, as crappy as they were) and threw on our shirts before heading to the truck. Halfway there, though, a whole group of cars pulled into the lot and parked. And out came the cheerleaders.

_What are they doing here? _I thought to myself, watching in horror as they all hooked arms with their groups and skipped down to _my _beach. A shit-ton of girls, all wearing matching outfits, going to take over my beach.

I wanted to cry.

"Hey, Iggy. Hey, Fang," came a voice that was vaguely familiar. I turned to see Lissa, a huge bow in her hair, snapping her gum and looking flirtatiously at Iggy. And behind her was Max.

**Max**

"Get up, Max," came Mom's voice. I grumbled something incoherently, still half-asleep. And even though I was half-asleep, I was conscious enough to know that I didn't want Mom to freak on me again. I murmured something else as I rolled out of bed - literally - and tucked into a ball on the floor.

"Max!" came a new voice, and I squinted my eyes a little to see Lissa standing there. She was holding a mini-duffle bag, a box with doughnuts, two styrafoam cups, and her polka-dotted straightener. "Get up. Remember? We're practicing on the beach today."

"That's _today_?" I growled. That meant that it was an hour earlier than my normal wake-up time. _That's _why I was so grumpy.

"Yes, it is," Lissa said, dropping herself onto my bed and waving to my mom as she left the room. "And I knew you'd forget, so, being the wonderful friend I am, I came to help you get ready!"

Our team was practicing on the beach - not really a practice, just throwing stunts and stuff outside in the sun - in preparation for tomorrow. All of the squads got to show off their stunts at Disney World, outside of where the competition would be held. It was also right in front of the hotel balconies, which meant tons of people would be watching. Our coach wanted us to be ready to throw our stunts in the sun, so we were going to the beach today for practice.

I'd been looking forward to it at the time we'd scheduled it, but now...

"Get _up_!" Lissa threw a pillow at me. When I blinked hazily up at her, she handed me a cup of coffee from Starbucks.

"Thanks," I muttered. I sat up, my back against the nightstand, and sipped at the coffee as Lissa dug through my bag to find what we were supposed to wear.

After I took a quick shower and Lissa straightened my hair, she put it in a high ponytail with a good-sized poof at the front. She then put in one of the bows I had laid out on the nightstand, a dark green one that shimmered and screamed cheerleader.

I mentally thanked God that Lissa was around to know what we were wearing and how we were doing things, because I was so _not _a very...organized person.

"Put these on," Lissa said, shoving some neatly folded clothes into my arms.

I stepped into the bathroom and put on our outfits. They were pretty plain, nothing like we were wearing to the thing tomorrow, but we had to all match. I put on the pair of black spandex and the shiny green sports bra that said, in silver, "GPA," for _Georgia Panthers All Stars_. It was either that or GAP.

I'd been in the bathroom for a whole five minutes when I walked out to find Lissa completely ready to go. Feeling rushed, I quickly put on my cheer shoes and Lissa and I headed out.

Most of the other girls were in the parking lot or had already left, and they were all pumped and...awake. Which I didn't understand. I was riding with Lissa purely so she could do my makeup to match the rest of the girls' on the car ride there.

An hour later we were in Daytona Beach and were unloading all the cars. I hopped out of Lissa's dad's monstrosity of a truck and hopped up and down a few times, hoping to wake up my muscles before I had to do anything _near _a bow and arrow.

Lissa hooked arms with me and fixed a smear of mascara that'd gotten on my face when we hit a bump while she was doing my makeup. She was pretty much doing the whole conversation for the both of us, which I was okay with. Despite the fact that I'd been awake for nearly two and a half hours now, it was only, like, nine AM. And nine was when I liked to be sleeping.

"Hey, Iggy. Hey, Fang," Lissa said, and my attention was caught. I followed Lissa's gaze, and sure enough, Iggy and Fang were standing in the parking lot watching the whole parade of our team go by.

They looked twice as exhausted as us, and for a moment I felt guilty for complaining so much about how tired _I _was. Iggy had bags under his eyes like he'd been up early, Fang had no energy in his step, and they both looked flat-out dead.

"Hi, guys," Iggy said as we stopped in front of them. Fang smiled at me. "What're you doing here."

"Practice," Lissa said, "of course. We have to get used to performing with the sun in our eyes for tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Fang asked. "I thought Worlds weren't for another week."

"They're not," I cut in. "We just have to perform outside tomorrow."

"Well is it against the rules for us to watch your guys' 'practice'?" Iggy asked. "My sister's kind of killing us with conditioning, and I think she'd give us a break as long as we let her watch too."

Lissa and I both shrugged, and she said, "I doubt our coach would care. It's a public beach, so whatever."

"Sweet," Iggy said, and he looked up for a moment like he was thanking God he was done conditioning.

Lissa split away from me and started skipping down the beach with Iggy, while Fang and I followed at our own slow, exhausted pace.

"You look tired," I commented.

"You're one to talk," Fang chuckled, raising a brow at me. Sweet. I felt like I'd just rolled out of bed, so I didn't doubt that, under the makeup and bow, I looked like it too.

"Just a little too early for my taste, that's all."

"I get to see you do something cheerleader-y after all." Fang smirked as he said this.

"Awesome. Let's just hope I don't fall."

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><p><strong>Yep. It's been forever. You can kill me if you want. But, seriously, I'm sorry it's been so long. <em>Major <em>case of writer's block, more so on Rules of the Game than this story, but it is what it is. BTW, if you're reading this put something about fried applesauce in your review. Just curious to see how many of y'all actually read author's notes. :)**

**So it took forever, but I hope it's not too sucky a chapter. I need to get out of my habit of making up stories as I go, huh? **

**Review, por favor! :)**


	8. Chapter 7

**Fang**

It was kind of impossible to say that Max didn't look hot in her outfit. I mean, obviously I knew she was thin, but I could also the faint outline of abs on her stomach, which was quite revealed since she was wearing a sports bra. Plus I'd never seen Max with full makeup and her hair kempt. I'd always seen her after her practices, when she hadn't bothered with makeup and her hair was a little sloppy.

But, even under the girly little outfit and makeup, this was definitely Max. Her sarcasm as we walked down to the beach was unmistakable, not to mention the very impressive burp she let loose.

It was strangely attractive to know that Max was so confident she didn't care if she burped in front of me.

"Fang, Iggy!" Nudge called in a singsongy voice, jogging up to us. She was about to say something but then she noticed Max. "Oh. My. God. Fang, are you talking to _Max Martinez_?"

"Um." I awkwardly cleared my throat while glancing sideways at Max. "Yes."

"Oh my God. Max, you are like my idol. Your bow and arrow is gorgeous, not to mention your straight-leg scorp! I wish my back was that flexible. Are you doing the 540 up scale this year, because if so I will probably die."

"Nudge!" I almost yelled. These cheer terms were giving me a headache. "Nudge, this is Max. Max, Nudge."

Max smiled at Nudge a little, but her smirk disappeared when her coach called her over. "Oh, God." She turned and gave me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Fang. Gotta go die."

She jogged off as I waved halfheartedly.

"Nudge, is it okay if we don't keep working out and watch Max's team?" I asked our little fitness trainer.

"Freaking duh, of course we're watching. I would so rather watch the best all-star team in the world than watch you and my brother sweat. Blech." Nudge pretended to gag, then plopped down in the sand.

Iggy suddenly appeared, having been talking to Lissa, and fell into the sand beside Nudge and I.

I watched as the team warmed up their stunts, and Nudge explained everything that was happening. Max went up and did something that looked pretty hard, but Nudge explained was a simple heel stretch. I was impressed with Max's flexibility, but couldn't help but notice how wobbly her ankle was in the bottom girls' hands. Max, however, seemed perfectly content, even smiling. She did what Nudge called a tick tock, jumping over to her other leg and immediately pulling her leg into a bow and arrow. This position just about made me hurt to watch, but I couldn't look away.

After they brought Max straight down, as well as the rest of the groups, they got into a different formation. Max was on the far left of the front row. I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped when suddenly all of the girls were tossed into the air to kick their legs and twist down to be caught.

"Those are switch kick doubles," Nudge was saying, but I was tuning her out while watching Max.

She laughed as her bases sat her on her feet in the sand, and whirled to face them and make a funny face. Her skin was shimmery with sweat, and a couple little hairs had come out of their bobby pins, but the sunlight seemed to illuminate Max's huge smile.

She seriously loved what she was doing here.

Maybe it was time I respected cheerleaders for what they enjoyed. I still didn't consider it difficult, even though I sure as hell wouldn't be able to do it, but if it was what these girls loved, who was I to judge?

Suddenly Nudge was squealing, "They're doing the 540 to scale, they're doing it, they're doing it, they're doing it! Eeeeep! I'm gonna die. I'm about to see Max doing one of the hardest stunts ever in person. Oh my gosh, Fang, this is going to be freaking _epic_. Seriously I just want to –"

"Shhhhh," I demanded, shoving a hand towards Nudge to quiet her down.

I watched as the girls gathered around Max and her stunt group. Max went into the stunt facing away from her coach, and she loaded so that her bases literally threw her into the air. She tucked into a ball and spun around one and a half times so that she faced her coach, hitting the bases hands in a scale. She held that, smiling, and then pulled her leg into a scorpion that made my back ache. Then her bases were tossing, and she twisted down into their arms.

Holy sweet mother of Jesus.

Nudge was literally hyperventilating by my side, and I was afraid to she was seriously choking. But Iggy didn't look too concerned for her – he was too busy making this face at Lissa, who was looking back at him in a secretive way.

Oh, God. What was going on _there_?

Eventually Max's team finished with their outdoor practice, but a few of them decided to hang around at the beach. This included Max and Lissa, ironically enough. Kidding. Somehow I felt like Lissa would want to stay.

"That was sick," I told Max as she walked over to me.

"Hm," she grunted in response, pulling off her cheerleading shoes and unwinding the bow from her hair. "I'm tired now, but since you got that I want to see something surfer-y."

"I'm a little tired to surf myself," I grunted. "But I could teach you a little. Except you don't have a swimsuit." I sighed in disappointment.

Max smirked suddenly. "I may not have a swimsuit, but I do have a backup plan," she said. She stood up and peeled off her green sports bra to reveal a black sports bra underneath. It had the same cut, so I hadn't known it was there. "I've got a million sports bras and pairs of spandex, so I doubt it'll hurt to swim in one pair."

"Well let's do it." I took off my shirt as Max peeled off her socks.

A moment later we were sitting at the water's edge, and I was explaining the basics to Max as I adjusted the leash of my board around her tiny ankle. It was a small board to start on (the smaller the board the more difficult it is to stay on) but I didn't plan on sending her on any huge waves.

"Ready?" I asked her once the leash was secure around her ankle.

She looked down at her ankle, smirking, and then over at me. I stood up and took her hand to pull her up, grabbing my surfboard and tucking it under my arm.

"Then let's do it," I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the water after me.

**Okay, yeah, it's been a while. Longer than a while, actually. But believe it or not, guys, I'm not **_**just **_**a writer. I do have school and cheer and friends and problems. And lately I've had quite a few problems. Most of you guys have been super-great, but there's a couple of you that need to respect that I do have things going on outside of writing.**

**Sorry for my rant.**

**Review, please. :)**


	9. Chapter 8

**Max**

"Now dive, dive, dive!" Fang yelled at me, and I sucked in a deep breath, moving my hands and shoving on the board to dive under the wave. I came back up, shook the droplets of water off my face, and continued paddling out.

"That was freaking _hard_," I grunted when I reached Fang, who was treading water a little ways out.

"Wimp," he chuckled. He moved forward and put his arms on the board while I sat up, straddling the board. He squinted, looking out towards the deeper water. "So I'll tell you when to start paddling, and then you paddle towards shore like a crazy person. When the wave hits the back of the board push up and stand, like we practiced. Then just balance till you fall. Got it?"

"Seems easy enough."

We floated out there for a little while, since the waves weren't too active today. I could see Lissa on the beach doing back tucks and stuff, no doubt showing off for Iggy. I also saw her spotting Nudge on a few back handsprings and stuff.

I mistook a couple of little bumps in the water for waves, but Fang was patient in explaining to me what was and what wasn't a wave.

I was sort of spacing out when suddenly Fang shoved of my board and yelled, "_Go_! Paddle, Max, _paddle_!"

Leaping into action, I laid back down on the board and struggled to paddle forward quickly enough. My arm muscles burned after just a few strokes, and I had to keep spitting out the disgusting saltwater that splashed into my mouth, but there was no way in hell I was giving up on this.

I glanced back to see the wave coming up on me. Situating my hands, I ignored the urge to give up and jump into the water and instead scooted my feet up. I kept my grip on the board for a few seconds longer than necessary, but eventually I got to a standing position. I threw my arms out, trying to balance, but I'd barely been up for two seconds when I fell off.

"You okay?" Fang yelled from where he was floating when I came up, sputtering.

"Fine," I called back, latching onto the surfboard. I pulled myself back onto it with a grunt and slowly paddled back to Fang.

We stayed out on the water for another couple of hours, and I attempted to get standing on _at least _a dozen waves. Fang kept asking if I wanted to go back, but I refused, telling him I wasn't leaving until I caught a wave. On one I stayed up for a few seconds, and the wave right after that I rode it all the way to shore.

When I stumbled onto the sand I was grinning. Fang swam in, too, and I carefully laid his board down to give him a big hug.

"That was _amazing_!" I kept repeating as I sat in the sand. I watched as Fang squatted by my feet and removed the leash from around my ankle. There was a thick red rash there. "Ouch," I said automatically, pulling my leg to me and rubbing the rash carefully.

"Don't touch it," Fang ordered, grabbing my wrist and pulling it from the rash. "A lot of new surfers get it. It's from a combination of the leash rubbing and the saltwater. It'll be gone by tomorrow and if you decide to surf a lot your skin will adjust and it won't show up."

"Okay," I murmured quietly. My wrist burned where Fang had grabbed it, but not in a bad way.

We sat there for a little while longer. I was roasting in the hot sun, probably getting an incredibly sexy sports bra and spandex tan, but I didn't care too much. At about lunchtime Lissa, Nudge, and Iggy all came over, handing me and Fang each a plastic bowl of nachos. Starved, I dug in.

"I saw you tearing it up out there, Max," Iggy commented with a grin.

"Don't make fun," I said with a fake frown. "Keep in mind I haven't exactly been doing this all that long. I'm not a pro or anything." I smirked as I leaned to my left and nudged a grinning Fang.

Our coach came over to tell me and Lissa that they were all leaving, but Fang assured her he and Iggy could get us back to the hotel at a decent time. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually everybody, coaches, teammates, and parents, left.

"Nudge, mind taking a picture of me and Max?" Lissa asked suddenly, digging into her bag and handing Nudge her camera.

"Sure!"

"Since I look like a sexy beast," I commented sarcastically as Lissa pulled me up, knowing my makeup was smeared. I removed my ponytail and shook my damp hair out, putting into a messy bun high up on my head. "What're we doing, Liss?"

"I want one of our scorpions together, back tucks, and maybe a few stunts. I know our bases left but college cheer nationals just finished up so I'm sure somebody around here has some experience."

We started with our scorpion picture. Lissa and I faced each other and pulled our scorpions, her grumbling and laughing about how hers was going to look like crap next to my straight-leg one. Once we were set, gripping our ankles in the best scorpions we could manage, and getting all kinds of odd looks from passers-by, we made kissy faces at each other while Nudge snapped the picture.

Next were our back tucks. We had to time these out, saying we would jump on the count of three and Nudge should snap the picture on four. We took one picture doing tucks away from each other, and then one of us holding hands while we threw ourselves back into our flips.

Then Lissa went sprinting off down the beach, looking for somebody to base us for a few stunts. Exhausted from practice, surfing, and tucks with Lissa, I fell into a heap in the sand next to Fang.

"Are you doubting my strength?" Fang asked when I told him Lissa was looking for bases. "You weigh next to nothing, Max, I'm sure I could lift you up."

"Of course I'm not doubting your strength," I snorted, squeezing his muscular bicep to assure him. "And I don't doubt you can lift my weight, it just seems like a lot more when it's a shaking person instead of a bar with weighs on it."

"Fine, fine."

Lissa returned with two college guys in tow. One was short and bulky with muscle, with short dark hair and sunglasses and red swim trunks. The other was tall with dark skin and more lean muscle. Lissa introduced the shorter one as Jake and the taller one as Ian, and explained that they were college cheerleaders who would be glad to base us.

We organized what stunts we would do and made sure Nudge was ready with the camera.

First we did cupies side-by-side. I flew on Ian since I was taller. A cupie is like an extension (when the guy holds your feet and straightens his arms over his head) except both of the girl's feet are in one hand so he has all of her weight in one arm. I hated cupies since I had awkwardly big feet, but Ian laughed when I said that and showed me his humongous hands.

Ian also told us he was good at double cupies—having two fliers on one base. I squeezed both of my feet onto Ian's left hand, Lissa in his right. I squeezed all of my muscles so that I was as still as possible to make it easier for Ian. For the picture of the double cupie Lissa and I put our arms closest to each other and each other's waists, and put the outside arms in a high V motion.

When we had our pictures we said goodbye to Jake and Ian, thanking them again for being a part of our little photo shoot.

"Shucks," I spit when I sat next to Fang again.

"What?" all four of my friends said at once.

"I meant to ask Ian if he could base Fang for one." I struggled to keep a straight face but ended up bursting into laughter. "You made me surf, buddy; you shoulda tried flying."

"You're hilarious, Max," he sneered jokingly, ruffling up my hair and loosening my messy bun.

We all hung out together for a few more hours until Lissa and I could no longer stand our wet sports bras and crusty salt-encrusted hair. We all squeezed into Fang's pickup truck except for Nudge and Iggy, who went home in Ig's car.

When we got to the hotel Lissa waved and sprinted into the hotel, probably purposely giving Fang and I some alone time. Which I appreciated greatly.

I leaned over and kissed Fang's cheek, blushing and jumping from the car and going inside, too.

**You can all thank Tegi for this update. Your review made me smile and actually make me want to get off my lazy arse to update.**

**Also, if you like One Direction check out one of my friend's stories. FF sucks with links so type in the URL for Quotev and then add slash beth96. Sorry if that's really complicated.**

**If you'd like to see who I picture when I see Max as a cheerleader, find 2by2video on YouTube and look at his videos of Maison. She fits Max's description plus her scorpion is straight-leg just like I made Max's!**

**And I suppose I have some explaining to do. Basically the last time I updated my best friend was really sick. She died a little while after that update. So that's why I've been a little…sparse lately. I'll try to get back into writing as much as I was before. Sorry.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Fang**

Nudge and Iggy were my alarm clocks the next morning. Ig and I had made the mutual decision the night before to push off today's surfing until the late hour of noon, so needless to say I was a little surprised when they came squealing into my room and I glanced over at my clock to see that it was just past seven in the morning.

"What the hell are you two doing?" I groaned, rubbing one hand over my tired eyes.

"Shut _up_." For once, Nudge was nearly speechless. Her big brown eyes became even bigger and her mouth dropped open. "Do _not _tell me you forgot. Cheer Worlds? Max? Performance today? Get up, get up, get up, let's go!"

"How did she loop you into this?" was all I asked as I looked at Iggy. He shrugged, looking guilty, and finally I realized what was going on. "You and Lissa…," I teased with a grin.

"No," he immediately objected, but as soon as Nudge's attention was diverted he lifted his brows and mouthed, "not _yet_."

So after throwing on some athletic shorts and a cutoff T-shirt from some old surfing competition, we all piled into Iggy's car and set out for Disney World. Normally I wouldn't trust Iggy to drive, but I was tired enough that I let it slip.

Nudge had a new CD by some band – Direction One or something like that – that she bribed Iggy into playing for the entire hour long drive, and so I couldn't have been happier when we were coming up on the parking lot to the huge theme park. Normally, being Disney World, the place was packed, but it was even more so today. Not to mention the gazillion girls in spandex and big bows we had to dodge looking for a parking space.

Nudge insisted on paying our entrance with her life savings, but of course Iggy and I (or just me) refused to let her.

Inside we wandered aimlessly, looking for Max and Lissa's team. Having grown up so close to the amusement park, and spending multiple family vacations here, all of us, even Nudge, didn't get distracted by the rides or the persistent Mickey and Minnie characters wandering around. That one really outgoing Peter Pan wouldn't leave us alone for the first fifteen minutes.

Finally we found a bunch of teams gathered in a huge circle around the small team performing. In a clump of black spandex and glittery white sports bras I found Max, standing on her toes and leaning slightly into Lissa to see over the girl in front of her to watch the team that was performing. I slowly moved closer and finally reached her, tugging lightly on her ponytail while still being careful to avoid the big green bow in her hair.

"Oh, hi," she said when she turned around. On a day as sunny as today, her big brown eyes seemed even darker and more enticing than usual.

"I thought you guys were performing," I questioned as I stuck my hands in my pockets and watched the team in the center of the circle. They were good, of course, but no competitors with a chance of a gold medal.

"We are." She bit her lip as one of the other team's stunts fell, but relaxed when the bottom girls caught the one who fell. "It's actually not as official as I made it sound. Just a bunch of teams get together for an outdoor practice. It kind of becomes a performance, though, as you can see." She nodded to the huge crowd of spectators that included little kids, old grandparents and, to my dismay, teenage boys in awe of the girls in front of them.

If they looked at Max like that they could welcome my fist with their jaw.

Whoa, where'd that come from? It's not like Max was my girlfriend or anything. Not that I'd mind, but… She didn't seem like the kind of girl who went for jealous guys. Maybe I'd have to tone that down a little bit.

Eventually the crowd died down enough that Max and I sat cross-legged in the grass and could still see what was going on. I glanced around and saw Iggy watching with a subtle smile as Lissa spotted Nudge on some of the tumbling she'd been working on for a long time. Oh, yeah. He was definitely whipped.

Max started pulling at blades of grass and kept looking around. "Nervous?" I asked slowly. Her head whipped around towards me and she almost jumped.

"What? Oh, yeah. I get more nervous that I can even explain. I'll be terribly jumpy until I get out there. As soon as the music starts I'll be good to go, so don't worry about it." She went back to biting her lip and pulling at blades of grass.

"Hey." I slowly grabbed her hands and pulled them from the grass, and intertwined my fingers with hers. After that she wasn't quite as fidgety, for which I was thankful.

"Thanks," she told me.

"Glad to help."

**Max**

After the Stingrays finished (tough team to follow, trust me), a few of the girls on my team got up and claimed the center of the circle. I sent a smile to Fang, removed my hand from his, and stood and hurried after them.

"Full out minus tumbling," Andrea called loudly, and we all got in our places. Our coach was ready with a stereo handy. The music began, and the butterflies in my stomach settled immediately.

_You know this routine, Max. This is nothing. You could do this in your sleep_.

And I could. As a matter of fact, I'd already dreamed of performing a perfect routine and receiving the gold medal four times.

The routine was great. As point flyer (the one front and center of stunts, and usually the most flexible), I managed to hit all of my stunts. On one sequence I heard a collective groan from the audience, so I assumed somebody behind me had fallen, but it wasn't something I could dawn on. All I could do was count on them to get the stunt back up ASAP and gather themselves in time for the rest of the routine.

In the ending pose I put a confident grin on my face and my eyes conveniently met Fang's. He looked impressed.

Now that he'd seen me in action, I couldn't wait to see him surf.

But for now all of my focus had to be on tomorrow, which would be the first day of competition.


	11. Chapter 10

**Max**

I loved to sleep. _Loved _it. So much that I often slept through my alarm clock and ended up with only minutes to get ready and get where I needed to be (good thing I was a night showerer). But the next day I woke up hours before my alarm clock, when the little green lights of my hotel alarm clock shone _4:33_.

My stomach was rolling already, and I knew there was no way I was going back to sleep. Despite the fact that the Georgia Allstars weren't scheduled to perform until 1:42 in the afternoon (everything was planned down to the minute at Worlds) my nerves were already at their height.

I pushed my blankets off and went to the bathroom, taking a quick shower even though I'd taken one the night before. Afterward, I dressed myself in black spandex and a loose white V-neck, wrapping the towel around my hair. I dug to the bottom of my suitcase to get out my emergency bag of Funyuns. After years of competing, I knew how nervous I could get, and knew the exact science of calming myself down.

So I sat cross-legged at the end of the bed eating Funyuns and watching _Mean Girls_. Welcome, my friends, to the life of Max Martinez.

At six o'clock I unzipped a separate pocket of my suitcase and pulled out my uniform. I took a deep breath as I looked at it, and then I pulled it on. It took about an hour to get my hair to perfection, and the final steps were to add the bow and do our heavy competition makeup. **(Full competition uniform, hair, and bow on my profile.)**

I was ready to go at seven-thirty, and the team was supposed to meet outside by the fountain at eight o'clock. I ate a chocolate chip granola bar and, just before I headed out, looked in the mirror, thanking the lord for my metabolism and willowy figure. The fact that just this morning I'd eaten a bag of Funyuns and a chocolaty granola bar and still looked thin in a crop top uniform wasn't something a lot of people could say.

But trust me, my poor bases were _so _going to notice those extra few ounces when they had to throw my big butt up in the air. I'd have to apologize beforehand.

I grabbed my backpack, which had my name and team name on it, pulled on my cheer shoes, and headed down. I was twenty minutes early, but another flyer and one of my bases were already there. They welcomed me with smiles and offered me their leftover donut, but I shook my head.

My stomach was already rolling again, and I felt like I was going to puke.

When everybody was there we started to walk towards the ESPN Wide World of Sports complex. Lissa, who'd been through many competitions with me and knew how I could get, found me and threw an arm around my shoulder. "Max," she said, "you've _got _this. _Breathe_."

"I can't." I shook my head slowly, and suddenly felt hyperventilation threatening. No way could I have another full-on breakdown like after Jamfest.

"Oh, yes you can," Lissa said, and I could hear the smirk in her voice. I looked at her to see that she was grinning, and I followed her eyes to see Nudge, a friend of hers, Iggy, and Fang. Nudge was holding up a sign decorated for our team, and Fang was smiling at me.

And then breathing came easier.

I broke away from the team and hurried over, where I hugged Fang.

"Nice uniform," he whispered as he squeezed me, at the same time Iggy wolf-whistled. Fang playfully punched Iggy, but it might not have been quite as playful as it appeared, because it left Iggy wheezing. He then got a light slap on the cheek from Lissa, who then stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Eep!" Nudge randomly squealed.

"But really," Fang murmured. He looked appreciatively down at my crop top and booty shorts, which were both bedazzled to perfection. "Nice uniform."

"Why thank you." With a sudden urge of bravery and daringness, I jumped onto my toes and kissed Fang's cheek. Immediately after my insecurities kicked in and my cheeks flamed. I grabbed Lissa's wrist and started pulling her way. "Sorry, guys, got to get back to our team!"

"Good luck!" they all chorused.

Today was just preliminaries. My team was in the senior large all-girl division, which was easily the toughest to be in. There were dozens of teams that would compete today, but only the top three would go on to finals tomorrow, where the world champions would be decided.

In the past our division had been dominated by the Maryland Twisters F5, Cheer Extreme Senior Elite, and World Cup Shooting Stars, but this year the Georgia Panther Allstars were stronger than ever. We'd placed third at Jamfest with multiple falls, so we had high hopes that if we hit our routine we could score a medal, possibly even a gold.

But no medals would be possible today if we weren't placed in the top three. Today was just as important as finals.

We watched the small senior all-girl division which included some amazing performances as well as some disastrous falls. There was an awful tumbling collision that resulted in one team's performance stopping so they could get the two girls who'd run into each other back handsprings out on gurneys.

And I was once again psyching myself out.

When it came time to head back to the warm-up room, I was humming songs and doing anything to distract myself. My stunts were shaky, but they always were when we were warming up. Then we were ushered backstage, where Lissa gripped my hand tightly. Our team's name was called and the crowd went insane, and we all skipped out, smiling and waving. I didn't let go of Lissa's hand until we absolutely had to get in formation.

Then the music started and my butterflies disappeared. **(Routine on my profile.)**

It was perfect. Flawless. But in a division as hot as ours, sometimes that wasn't enough.

Now all we could do was cross our fingers and pray that we were in the top three to move on to finals.


	12. Chapter 11

**I'm an awful person for abandoning this website for 284829 years. Don't remind me. Enjoy, my little minions!**

* * *

><p><strong>Max<strong>

"Selecting three teams to advance to the finals tomorrow in the large senior all-girl division was a difficult decision, but unfortunately only the top three scores can go through. So how about a round of applause for all the talent in this division?" the emcee said.

The building erupted in cheers, but I just kept my face buried in my hands to block out everything. The nerves were hitting the whole team hard. All of us were in different positions of stress. Mine consisted of being smushed between Lissa and Beth on my knees with my face pressed into my hands on the floor. A bit dramatic maybe, but I wanted this so badly.

"Our first team going through, in no particular order, is..." He paused for effect, and I nearly jumped up to punch him. "World Cup Shooting Stars!"

I huffed as the girls next to us jumped up and celebrated. As if nobody had seen that coming. Their routine this year was spectacular. It rivaled even Senior Elite, who were some of the best.

I glanced over at the Senior Elite team. A few falls had knocked them down a few notches and a handful of them were already crying.

"Second...Maryland Twisters F5!" As that team celebrated I felt my tummy muscles clench in fear.

"And finally..." A girl from Senior Elite caught my gaze with her teary one, and she smiled and nodded at me. Finally I realized why. I'd been so preoccupied with panicking I had missed the emcee announce my team, and my teammates were jumping up and down around me. Tearfully, I jumped up and joined them.

As they got ready to announce the coed divisions we were all allowed to leave, but all of the senior all-girl teams gathered in the hallway, congratulating each other, apologizing and hugging disappointed girls, and taking pictures. The cheer world really was a family, I mused as I took a picture with a girl from F5.

After watching the announcements for the remaining divisions, Lissa and I headed out of the ESPN Wide World of Sports building. I hadn't spotted any of our little fan club in the hundreds of people inside, but they were waiting right outside.

"That was _amazing_!" Nudge squealed, surging forward and capturing both of us in a sturdy hug. Fang mouthed an apology to me as Nudge went off on a rant. "Omigod, I'm so glad you guys got through! Max, you're ridiculously flexible, it's not even okay how bendy your back is. And Lissa, gosh, your tumbling! Oh, and I even got to meet some girls from the other teams that I, like, idolize! I'm so glad F5 and Shooting Stars got through, but I feel so bad for Senior El-"

"Nudge!" Iggy snapped, and she quieted, although she didn't release me or Lissa from her grip.

"Congrats," Fang said with a boyish smile that made my heart, which I thought was frozen and immune to things like that, stutter. He gripped my wrist and managed to peel me away from Nudge, who was talking to Iggy and Lissa. He glanced back as we walked. "We can meet up with them later. Want to go get some ice cream?"

"God, yes." I rubbed my belly as if I was food deprived. "I've been too nervous to eat anything today...besides some Funyons and pizza," I added as an afterthought, and Fang laughed.

Before we arrived at the ice cream parlor Fang muttered something about how I'd need a shirt to go in, and I glanced down at my crop top uniform. Then he oh-so-casually peeled off his white T-shirt, leaving him in an old gray tank top, and handed it to me. I yanked it over my head. It hung down so low that it completely hid my shorts, making it appear I was wearing no pants, which was far worse than showing off my stomach in my opinion, but I went with it.

Fang, being the exciting and unpredictable fellow he was, got vanilla ice cream, while I got a banana split. We found a booth in the corner right next to the fan.

"I really was impressed with that," Fang mumbled absentmindedly, practically eating his whole scoop in one spoonful. He squinted as if he was thinking really hard about what he would say next. "I always kind of thought cheerleading was a joke, but I guess I underestimated you guys."

"It can be tough," I murmured, stirring the melting ice cream in my bowl.

"It scared me a little," he admitted, his cheeks flaming pink before he composed himself and went all macho man and his skin returned to its olive hue.

"_You_? Why? I mean, you stand on a slippery board and surf through pounding waves and risk being drowned and eaten by sharks every day!" Fang chuckled and mumbled something about the rarity of shark attacks, but I wasn't completely convinced.

"I guess I was scared because so much could go wrong." He scratched his chin and didn't meet my eyes. "I mean, I got a little jumpy whenever a girl would get dropped or something, and I felt bad for those girls who got carted out on stretchers when they hit each other tumbling. But when _you _were out there, even when you were completely solid in the air, I couldn't sit still. I could barely watch. Iggy thought it was the greatest thing ever until Lissa bobbled, then he about shit himself."

"It's not scary up there," I mused. "Maybe for some people it was in the beginning, but I was always such a daredevil I loved being high in the air. Besides, the bases would risk even themselves to catch a flyer if she was falling. The only thing that scares me is basket tosses. I have this recurring nightmare that some freak accident is going to launch me right through the roof and into space. It's stupid." I looked down and picked at my nails.

Fang caught one of my hands and rubbed my palm with his thumb, making me go completely still.

"Having fears isn't stupid, Max," he told me.

And I sure hoped he was right, because this whole hand-holding, _feeling _thing was scaring me to death.


End file.
